


Pirates

by deleerium



Series: Orlijah Month 2011 [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-04
Updated: 2011-01-04
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deleerium/pseuds/deleerium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>September 1768 – on an explorer ship, somewhere in the North Pacific, approaching the Bering Strait. Orlando and Elijah as sailors on the same ship; Viggo doing a cameo as the captain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pirates

Orlando shivered as another blast of icy wind rolled across the deck. His cheeks stung as if pelted by glass fragments – this far north, even the air itself was frozen. He straightened from his crouch near the railing and stomped his feet, rubbing his arms as he took a last look across dark, icy water before pacing to the other side of the forecastle. Tugging his woolen cap down over his ears, he tucked his hands under his armpits and shook his head to clear it. He blinked hard and started a visual scan from the bowsprit, moving east. 

They were weeks yet to the ice fields proper, but there was no telling what had broken free from the glaciers this late in the year. Nighttime was particularly dangerous as the days grew shorter and the nights stretched past the usual watch. Seeing nothing, he yawned and tipped his head back to check the position of the stars. There was still a half-turn of the clock before his relief would show up – the Archer was not yet fully upright in the sky. 

The stairs leading up from the maindeck creaked and Orlando glanced over his shoulder. His eyes widened. "Capt’n, Sir," he said, his voice low. He bobbed his head and straightened. "There’re no signs of ice this eve, Capt’n. Though the wind has picked up in the last hour." Reporting by habit.

The Captain acknowledged the information with a grunt of agreement and moved to stand at the rail next to the sailor. "Wind is good," he said, his voice gruff, his gaze narrowing as he stared out across the water. 

"Aye," said Orlando. He held his arms stiffly at his sides and kept to his position of attention, despite his shivering. 

Without looking at him, the Captain spoke again. "Is this your first watch of the eve, sailor?"

Orlando hesitated, his gaze dropping to the deck. "Second, Capt’n," he said, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Knowing his Captain, he wasn’t saying anything the Captain didn’t already know. "Boyd was feeling poorly and I traded him the early watch for one and one half rations." He looked up when the Captain made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

The Captain folded his arms behind his back, chest out and back straight even as the wind gusted viciously over the rail. "One and a half rations," he murmured. "A half ration above the usual." He glanced at Orlando. "A profitable trade, I’d say."

Orlando grinned. "Aye, Capt’n."

After a moment, the Captain spoke again. "Tis only a half-hour until end of Second Watch," he said. "I’ll take over from here. You’d best get out of the cold." 

Orlando bit his lip, gaze darting between his Captain and the ladder before he snatched off his cap, his brow furrowed in concentration. He twisted it in his hands as he stared at his feet. "Beggin’ your pardon, Capt’n," he said, his voice low and a little shaky. "But I’d prefer to finish my watch. Sir. If it’s all the same." 

There was a moment of silence, then the Captain nodded. "Very well," he said, then his voice dropped, carrying a gentleness Orlando had never heard before, "but do put your hat back on your head, sailor. It won’t do you any good to stand watch if you’re frozen solid." 

"Aye, Capt’n," Orlando whispered, his shoulders even straighter and his chest puffed out a little. 

+++

Orlando was shivering in earnest by the time he stumbled down the ladder to the gun bay and made his way to the narrow cubby of hammocks strung under the bow. Ducking under and around snoring sailors, he squeezed past a wall of cargo to the last two hammocks hanging from the foremast. He sighed in relief at the sight of his own hammock already strung, the hammock below it swaying gently with the weight of the body already wrapped in it. 

"Lando." 

Orlando jumped at little at the whisper and looked down. He couldn’t help a tired grin at the sight of a pair of bright blue eyes and a shock of wild auburn hair peeking at him from under the woolen blanket. He nudged Elijah’s hip with a foot. "Tis only second watch done, go back to sleep." 

Elijah grunted and pulled the blanket down enough to bare his nose. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Orlando. "You’re frozen, idiot," he said. "I told you two watches was too long. You’ll lose your toes one night, if you’re not careful." 

"I’m careful," said Orlando and shrugged out of his oilskin, draping it over the end of the hammock. "Besides, we’ve managed an extra eight rations between us," he said, keeping his voice to the barest whisper. "That’ll be the difference of a week if supplies get low or the weather fouls." 

Elijah snorted and pulled the blanket back over his head, his next words muffled. "We’re making port in less than a month." 

"Maybe," said Orlando, wrapping a blanket tight around his body and slithering into the hammock above Elijah’s. "But the wind was heavy tonight and smelled of snow," he murmured. "Could be two months before we arrive." He yawned and shivered and pulled the blanket up over his nose, wriggling a little to get his weight settled right in the hammock. He was almost asleep when he felt something poke him in a place where nothing should be poking him. "What?"

"I’m cold," said Elijah, his whisper the barest breath of sound below him. 

Orlando sighed as if put upon, ignoring the way it made something in his chest flop around like a net full of herring. He grasped the edges of the hammock with his fists and wound his feet around the end. With a well-practiced twist of his body, he flipped himself over. He hung suspended above Elijah long enough to see laughter and longing make bright blue eyes turn sapphire. Then he let go. 

Only the sounds of a hammock swinging, rustling blankets and grunts of pain (as if one body had made unintended contact with the sharp limbs of another) could be heard. In a few moments, everything went silent. 

Orlando sighed in pleasure at the warmth and tightened his arms around Elijah’s shoulders. "Better?" he whispered. 

Elijah burrowed closer, tucking his face into the curve of Orlando’s throat. His eyes opened when he felt Orlando shift a little and a pair of lips pressed to his temple – soft and hesitant and warm. Elijah’s sigh echoed Orlando’s. He wriggled one hand under the layers of wool and cotton until he found what he was looking for -- a strip of warm, bare skin under Orlando’s sweater. 

Elijah rubbed the skin in small circles that made the throat under his ear purr – and then he smiled and closed his eyes again. "Much." 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Written in January 2011 for Orlijah Month; crossposted from LJ (deleerium dot livejournal dot com); Original prompt was 'pirates' - I fail at actually putting any pirates in this bit...


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